


Someday i'll wish upon the star (and wake up where the clouds are behind me)

by gustin_puckerman



Series: You're my Achilles heel [1]
Category: Mr Robot
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 02:54:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4730099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gustin_puckerman/pseuds/gustin_puckerman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If they were any normal people, that would’ve been a date. Or an anon ask me on tumblr for Elliot and Shayla going to the movies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday i'll wish upon the star (and wake up where the clouds are behind me)

“C’mon, Elliot.” Her voice has a slur to it—a little drunk, a little high, (but they’ve all been intoxicated lately. So he won’t judge.) but mostly sober. She doesn’t come to him, doesn’t probe and poke her finger at him, doesn’t _beg_. No, no. Shayla doesn’t beg.

That’s not her style.

He looks at her, calculatingly, wide eyes resting over her healthy grin as she sways around his bedroom—or whatever that comes close to it—always keeping a distance. And he thinks again these are one of the few reasons he like Shayla: that the only times they’ll fully touch each other is when they have sex. But other than that? Very rarely. He doesn’t like physical contact. She’s okay with it. Yeah, they work out.

“You know how I feel being out there.” _And in limited spaces. With people. In the dark. For an extended period of time._ He doesn’t tell her the rest, of course—but she’ll understand it either way.

She lets herself fall against the sofa, in the roughly graceful way he’s known her for, while she lets out, “That’s why I waited until it’s the last week it’s gonna be released on the cinema, you dumbass.” She looks at the fish when she says this, and Elliot let the nickname slides. “There’ll be less people. And we can go, like, right now. It’s like super late. Barely anybody’s gonna be there.”

He considers her words, wide eyes travelling to the window to catch the hint of the nighttime and suddenly feels a chill running down his spine. Damn heater.

“You planned this?” 

At this, Shayla grins—more genuinely, like you can see it’s _directed_ _for_ him (and just him.) rather than the natural grin she always plasters across her face—and Elliot doesn’t think more about the way his chest feels light when he sees that. “Hell yeah I did. I was like… scouting the place and shit, you know?”

He allows himself to smile a little at that, imagining Shayla inquiring about the condition of the movie theatre from time to time within the past month just so she could drag him to see a movie with her without him eventually leaving her half-way through.

(That happened once.) (He had to shut her up with sex.) (It was the second time they had sex.) (It had been a rush and weird but he likes her under his palm.) (She’s so warm.) (And when she smiles after she’s had her orgasm?) (Yeah, that was pretty cool too.)

“C’mon Elliot, it’s not like I have so many friends here. Unlike you, with that sexy blonde fox always followin’ you around.” She teases, wiggling her eyebrows knowingly. 

If he were anymore normal, he’d probably roll his eyes. Shake his head. Maybe he’d even grin. But Elliot merely turns, proceeds to hack into a store two blocks away from his place.

“Hey. I know you’re not working.”

“Maybe I’ve already seen the movie.”

“Are you serious?” It’s expected—she doesn’t buy it. He doesn’t watch movies. Maybe when Angela’s around, and he’s not twelve yet. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s watched a movie till the end. Movie climaxes make him nervous. “You’re not fooling anybody here, buddy. C’mon. I’ve never really asked much from you, Elliot. I mean… don’t make me feel shitty for asking a friend to watch _Blended_ with me, alright? Don’t make me feel weird.”

He tries imagining himself sitting in a dark place with Shayla by his side watching Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore falling in love for the 29183th times probably. It’s quite comical. Though he doesn’t laugh.

He stares at her instead.

She’s standing now, a little closer to him but far enough that it doesn’t make him wanna shrink away and he begins to see how her shoulders start to drop—a sign she’s about to give up. Maybe she’d always known there’s a bigger chance he’d say no. This is the perfect chance. If he stands still and say nothing—or just outrightly deny her request again—she’d eventually tell him to never mind. What was she thinking anyway. She knew he’s never gonna go for that idea, so she doesn’t know why she even tried. And maybe she’ll ask him to stay rockin’, or stay alive before she goes.

That’s it.

And his night could be spent just like how he always spend it.

But then again. He knows how much she likes _Drew Barrymore_.

Elliot stares at her some more.

“I…” He starts, suddenly couldn’t find the right words, and let his gaze falls to his shoes. He looks up again, just in time to watch her startled expression, and braves himself to finish, “I’ll go get my jacket.”

“…what?” She asked in a murmur, and he stands up, trying his best not to see her face. He doesn’t do this very often. Surprising people. It makes him jumpy. But he’s half convinced that her reaction must be pleasant. It’s only possible.

Then again, they’re talking about Shayla. Sometimes—but only _sometimes_ —he really can’t tell with her.

“You heard me.”

“Fuck. _Seriously_? I did it?” If she were any normal, he thinks, maybe she’d pump her fist in the air out of excitement. Maybe she’d jump. Maybe she’d go in to hug him. But just like him, Shayla’s just Shayla. So she just grins. And maybe she’s shaking. Like a bomb seconds before it explodes. But in a good way. “Okay, fuck. Wait a sec, okay? I’ll go get my stuff. Fix my hair or something. Can you check when’s the next showtime on your computer?”

He nods. “I can just buy the tickets online.”

“Cool. Rad.” She nods to herself, and gives him a second look like she still doesn’t believe it’s him— _the_ Elliot Alderson—who is now slipping on his hoodie to watch an _Adam Sandler_ movie with her. Yeah, he lives dangerously. “Wait for me when you’re done, okay? I promise I won’t take too long.”

He believes her.

They go to the movie. She selects the furthest place in the theatre so they’re not surrounded by people, even though there are only like, twelve—maybe thirteen—people who are available in the whole place. They sit a seat apart, and she grins when his shoulder relaxes at that. She laughs at most of the jokes, and sings when _Drew Barrymore_ sings. 

(He doesn’t watch the movie so much.) (He just watches _her_ though.)

When they’re done, they walk together to their apartments and she tells him that she’d like to go to Africa, and live with the elephants. Maybe she can tame a lion. He tells her that that’s a cool idea. She agrees. She laughs. And then she asks him to visit her sometimes. Don’t be a stranger. He thinks about it. And he asks her that maybe when he _does_ come to visit, they can have sex with the elephants and lions watching them. She laughs some more, tells him he’s weird. He might’ve grinned.

When they get to their doors and punching their keys to the respective keyholes, she looks at him some more, like he’s just given her the best night of her life. And maybe he has. A night full of normalcy. He can still smell the popcorn on his hand. So she comes to him and grasps his jaw and kisses him. His hands come to rest on her hips, naturally.

But this kiss is not sex. It’s not rush and wild and quick.

And she still feels warm underneath his palms.

“Thank you,” she breathes, resting her forehead against his in those quick milliseconds before she moves away, grinning wider. “You are one miracle guy, Elliot. You’re so… _special_? Can you see that?”

All he thinks about during that split second is to kiss her again. He looks at her instead. She waves a hand. “Goodnight.” And goes in.

Elliot feels—well he’s not sure how he feels—but it’s pretty good. He thinks again that maybe, if they were any normal people, that would’ve been a date. But they’re not. They’re just Elliot and Shayla, and they’re what Elliot and Shayla do. It’s not a date. But that _has_ been a kiss. 

He doesn’t tell her he can’t stop humming _Somewhere Over the Rainbow_ for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, feel free to send me more Elliot x Shayla prompts okay? I'm desperate.


End file.
